update: he loves the Erdrich novel

update: they took his clothes, no idea way, but I'd had a gut feeling to stop at Target for comfy thoses for in there rt b4 going today. A bag full, so it's not like he doesn't have plenty to dress like a regular person (not a 98 lbs prisoner in xxxl scrubs).

update: I needed his phone to get into his email, there's a form the nurse and he are supposed to sign, the nurse tells the security guard just to slip it to me on the way out, she doesn't have time for that shit. I have Ears sign the insurance release form for me. I leave the insurance forms that need signed by ecmc, knowing they never will be. 

update: I got to UPS to fax the hippa form. I am so overtired that I don't notice the person in line in front of me is a years-long coworker (still working). she looks agressively great, has lost at least 50 pounds etcetc - one of those, motherfucking fine types.

I am fucking fine. And I will not let up. I don't care how much everybody there sucks. It's, how you say?, busted. Not even bothering to be mad. Only stay angry at what you hope might change, otherwise why bother? Nothing will fix our healthcare system. It needs 💣💣💣. I am going to bomb-ard it with fucking forms.

card of the day, yep

The word "efficiency" comes from the Latin "efficere," meaning "to bring about" or "to make happen." Then came the Industrial Revolution with stopwatches, timed workers and the search for the one best way to perform every task. This Virgo new moon suggests a return to the word's original spirit with one beautifully efficient question: What do you really want to make happen?

update: last night Janis ate the Popeyes biscuits, which wouldn't have been so bad except she ate the box as well. so I didn't get a lot of sleep. I had to go back to bed for a couple of hours and so NOW it's today. Virgo new moon, perfect, I know exactly what I want to make happen. And I will. No more waiting for shit to "get better" in any life category 💣

VIRGO (Aug. 23-Sept. 22). This is your moment to be new in whatever way you wish. You can start the things you think will make a difference. You can end the things that were dragging you down. You're in complete control.

Yes. (except for what belongs to Mary)

I don't want it to be today yet, but I guess it is.

My sister is staying on till Saturday. Mostly because she just can't imagine a project team of one (me) for allllll this. And because my last nerve quit a while ago and all of my patience has blown away like dirt in Oklahoma.

One grippysockjails too many. I didn't know I had a grippysockjail tolerance to "build up" so I wasn't prepared for my heart having to orbit that shit repeatly indefinitely. 

My sister's tolerance for this is higher because she's already been orbiting things like hospice and my mother's endless care needs, and has much higher tolerance for the absolutely shitty corporate America is, which now includes, of course, healthcare and higher education. I am frequently, no more like constantly, fed up at hello. 

So ecmc will tell me nothing. It isn't a matter of disclosure forms, nothing like that. I have a right to know, Ears WANTS me to know, they just don't give a shit that that's what he wants. Meanwhile, I have to navigate his HR and Metlife and a third party portal whatever the hell managing system called Alite, all of whom need things like the psychiatrist's name. You think that would be easy to get, but even asking the fucker's name - any question at all - will keep him in there longer. He's seen that. If you cannot ask one single question without being punished, that's prison. With lexipro. And surely someone is making a profit off it, it's probably privatized. 

He's dropping weight, currently at ninety eight pounds. That's a lot of weight to lose even for me in a week, although I have done it. That's how I die. 

But my sister is correct. My hsssssssssssssssssssssssssing won't help. Of course I already know that, I'm just not used to not being able to vent how much I hate every fucking thing out loud because I'm usually alone. I can tell ChatGPT or Alexa that I'm sick of fucking everything everything and I haven't gotten laid in a million years and everybody keeps trying to jump off the Earth which I can totally sympathize with, don't get me wrong, it's just that I don't get like that much, certainly my dick does not stop working / my libido for LIFE does not stop or I wouldn't be able to keep going #grit. But that means I get more like I'm gonna beat your printer to death with a baseball bat (which I have done) - if I broke, all the way, I'd go homicidal v suicidal I think 🤔

So I let Sis navigate a lot of this paperwork, and how you talk to people who have put you on hold for forty five minutes nicely so that you can get the number that you call next to be put on hold for forty five minutes. And so on.

The good news is that Ears is so easily bullied, he let his employer talk him into every kind of extra insurance, like the car situation only this time it's a good thing. It will not help with the medical bills (which also no one will talk to me about whatsoever. ecmc is fucking awesome 🖕) But it will mean that he will get more of his salary than he otherwise would. Once he's on temporary disability, which I'm assuming he is, since he's too disabled to sign the power of attorney that would make this a hell of a lot easier. ERGO, if he can't sign that piece of paper, he is by definition unABLE. So I'm gonna take a wild guess that we can get temporary disability since he does not have any ability 👀🙄 And start the processes (many) of that paperwork, which is a holy fucking nightmare. LUCKILY every HR lady and insurance processing lady and other insurance lady are all ladies. Mothers. It is very wise to be very friendly with those folks. No matter how long you've been on hold and also sometimes the call just drops. And you have to start all over again. 

So all of the ladies have sent hippaforms and every other kind of form, which Ears will sign today, that gives them permission to bombard whatever psychiatrist is behind the wizard's curtain with faxed forms demanding information so that I don't have to even try talking to anyone in that zoo - only the nurses are nice and their scope of practice doesn't include paperwork shit.

HR ladies say it's fine that I have guessed at a diagnosis based on the level of incapacity and current medications. In addition, new york state has a law where it demands that you somehow get diability from it as well, which metlife handles. But that still doesn't cover f m l a (federal), and I'm not sure who entirely handles that. Every one of the ladies told us it was one of the other ladies. But we got as far as the needed forms to proceed. And got many case numbers to write down. And then keeled over. 

I wouldn't mind a hopsital stay for him. It's the conditions under which this stay must occur. I just can't imagine that it's good for your nerves to be on a floor where people are screaming pretty much constantly. And no one feeds you hardly. How can a hospital not have heard of Ensure? 

It's fine. The kid lived. Will live. He's so good natured that about the YELLING jezus "I've gor ear plugs." 🤦🏻‍♀️ The wasting away we can turn around. And I will get him some paid leave if I gotta stay on hold summoning patience from the center of the earth like a witch who has none of her own remaining. 

My patience is molten.

So today get lunch with the boy and bring him forms for metlife and the other lady and the other lady and the other lady. And then let the ladies have at it. I took a wild guess of November 2nd as when he might come back to work, which we can get extensions for. I think that is a reasonable ask of the phantom psychiatrist. 

And since I don't trust that a social worker is evvvver gonna fucking call me back ( all of the parents in the waiting room say she doesn't call back ever ), I'm gonna start calling around for therapists who are taking new patients cz he needs one. Start with Evergreen.

Meanwhile, the bed arrives today and we are going to rearrange the upstairs living quarters and then watch the movie where the guy beats the printer to death w a baseball bat because apparently that happens in a movie not just in my life. Then spend tomorrow night at the cottage. 

I have to get a storage unit for his shit. But I can wait a day or two and that can't be that hard. 

I'ma get a hold of the moving dude and ask him if he wants a dresser or two and give him my number.

Then Sis and I are gonna have fun setting up his room nicely. He's very much looking forward to moving home. Very very verrrry much. Huge smile, can't fucking wait. Sometimes you need your mama esp if she's fierce af re blowing up life (if ur gonna do it, DO IT, get it over with). And I'll be happy to have him, because the hard part really isn't blowing it up. The hard part is what comes after that. And you need enough of yourself left to be able to turn around after 💣 and build a life. Until then you're parked on the tracks.

He needs a rest time, his nerves are shot. We were joking around that I could decorate the room like with Toy Story 🤣. Or maybe retro, cowboys! As usual, laughing our asses off. In real life I ordered everything in plain blue, the only color any man can ever remember exists seemingly 🤷🏽‍♀️

And the first thing we are getting is an extra freezer. Loootsa homecooking be going on around here.